Thursday, February 15, 2007

Cancer, everyone can get it,

even strippers! Gasp. Who knew that strippers were real women too? I thought they ranked up there with prostitutes and blow up dolls and 'sex workers' as some species of sub-person.I was going to write about releasing the cats today, and possibly how fucking rude some people are on Valentine's night, but then this piece of crap caught my eye and my dander-thusly raised- forced me to abandon my mild mannered screed and steer the outraged car across the road to a subject that bothers the ever living shit out of me.

I hate the trite sexualisation of women.

I despise that in order to make a point some woman somewhere generally has to strip off and either stand around looking uncomfortably naked or stimulate a sexual act. I hate that fucking pole dancing, as well as becoming a 'cool and perfectly normal' way of life, is now used to advertise and showcase just about everything.

Want to lose some weight? Slid down a fucking pole in a suggestive manner at a gym somewhere. Tee hee. It's fun.

Want to release a rap video, get a shit load of strippers to dance around making their asses 'clap'.

Want to release an indie video? Get Kate Moss to slide up and down, only do it in black and white, cooler that way, more arty.

It's not just pole dancing. Want to say fur is bad? Get two girls to strip off their clothes and stand freezing their goose-pimpled arses off while a large group of men stand around them leering and taking photos with their camera phones. Or get them to do a faux 'State of the Union' speech while stripping naked.Yeah! Isn't this all just fun? Right on! How liberating. Come on, show more cleavage, it's for a good cause.And now! Drum roll please...want to show that cancer effects us all? Bring on the stripper.Well I'm fucking sick of it.If this was a campaign for testicular cancer would we expect to see a male stripper dancing about on stage, oiled up, wearing a dicky bow and slapping his winkle about sans a ball or two? Of course not, that would appear to be making light of his illness. No, if it was a testicular cancer, we would probably see a family man-possibly with kids playing in the background, telling his wife the bad news. There might even be sad background music.Why? Because cancer is a disease that can show no mercy. Cancer can invite itself in and destroy a whole family. It can effect the young and the old, men and women and children alike.It's not really very sexy now is it? This campaign reeks to the high heavens.We don't need to sexualise cancer, or glorify stripping to make a point. We don't need to objectify women at every turn to send a message.Cancer, everyone can get it, but only women need to strip off and get jiggy with it to make you understand. Right?There is nothing sexy about breast cancer, there is nothing sexy about lung cancer, there is nothing sexy about cancer period. And fuck anyone that might triviaize it and 'sex it up'. That is all.

Seriously, though. It's hard to see what the point of this ad is. Yes, yes, anyone can get breast cancer. Even sexy people..? It's confusing more than evocative. And what of the final, "shocking" image? What does that prove? "You don't want to get cancer, love. Check yourself or you'll end up like this scarred thing."

I don't know what it means either, but I do know it made me so cross I went to the Phoenix Park for a run and ended up running from the Castleknock Gates to Cunningham Road and back again and now I have barely the energy to make my legs go up the stairs to take a shower. Bleuagh.

I'm surely not dissing Dita. Dita doesn't try to pretend she's anything but a burlesque styled stripper. What I'm sick of is everyone pretending stripping is anything other than a milder version of prostitution. And I'm really sick of it beng used to promote everything from getting fit to breast cancer.

I agree with you, cat. Trying to raise daughters who don't want to dress like worldly little hookers is a problem I hope I'm not going to have with my kids, but the odds are against me. The culture thinks it's fine apparantly, but what gets me is hat there are mothers who apparantly think it's fine to send their daughters to primary school with ultra mini leopard skin skirts, espadrilles and mini-designer purses. Under 10s shouldn't even fucking know what a designer bag is!

It's an expression, said lady juggles her ass about so hard it makes a claping sound. Busta Rhymes sang about it once.I hate kids looking like anything other than kids too. Jesus, let them be small for as long as they can be.

About Me

I'm a bouncy, opinionated, messy haired marathon running (!) bibliophile. I wear high heels and have delightful ankles. I'm a devoted drinker. I want a French Bulldog puppy whom I shall call Batman and dress in capes on occasion.
I would also like a pug, whom I shall name Mister Woo. He can remain capeless, but I will make sure he wears a diamante collar at all times.
Both dogs will submit to repeated snorgling and high pitched squeals that only a dolphin would normally tolerate.
I hate Reiki/psychics/mystics/frauds with all my liver. Also, I'm firmly against Jazz and poetry/poems/pomes/ peoms or any of that stuff. I believe in the healing power of ginger.